Consonance
by wrinkledgreenpea
Summary: A collection of drabbles for everyone's favorite buchou and tensai. [Ch. 5 Of Beds and Plans: Consider it a wardoffMizuki charm.]
1. Escargot

Disclaimer: If I was Konomi-sensei, then I'd devote a whole volume to just TezuFuji fluff. But alas, I'm not.

Rating: PG-13 for very very VERY clear implications of sex.

Setting: after college; Tezuka and Fuji are probably in their mid twenties.

Summary: Fuji hates sitting down to eat dinner when it's so much easier to get it another way…

Word Count: 333

**Escargot.**

"No."

The left corner of Fuji's smile lifted a fraction of an inch, and as Tezuka had learned over countless late-night dinners, _that_ spelled more trouble than his normal smile did. Trouble that usually ended in the meal on the floor and two hot sweaty bodies arranged in rather compromising positions on the table. Not that he minded, but that was precisely what was wrong. Fuji had a way of making him forget about everything and everyone, except… Fuji.

Words, people, objects, rules, even tennis… All disappeared as soon as Fuji stepped into view. Which was precisely why Tezuka had banned Fuji from entering his office building during the daytime anymore.

"Try it, please?" wheedled Fuji, who slid the plate towards Tezuka again.

Tezuka stared down blankly at the nauseating medley of green and brown.

Despite whatever Fuji had said about it being a delicacy in France, Tezuka found the idea of eating snails, especially ones drenched in wasabi sauce, (Fuji insisted – "To make it more traditional and less exotic for your tastebuds.") rather… unpleasant. And he knew his stomach most definitely agreed with him.

Looking back up at Fuji's smiling face, Tezuka pushed it away once more.

"No."

Sighing in defeat, though Tezuka could clearly tell it was fake, Fuji stood and came around to his side of the table. Without warning, he plopped himself down onto Tezuka's lap. Seductive cerulean eyes stared hungrily at his former tennis captain.

"Well," murmured Fuji, voice lowered a notch. "That was all I made for dinner. So if you're hungry, then I guess…" His voiced trailed off as he leaned in to gently nip at Tezuka's neck. One hand trailed slowly down Tezuka's chest. And went lower. And lower…

Groaning, Tezuka twisted his head to catch Fuji's lip in a searing kiss as he pushed the tensai onto the table.

And when yet another meal crashed onto the pristine hardwood floor, Tezuka was far too distracted by Fuji's hand down his pants to care.

---owari---

AN: My shrine to TezuFuji in the form of drabbles. And only drabbles. Future drabbles will not be linked together unless stated at the top. This is not a drabble fic/story. It's simply where all my TezuFuji drabbles will go in.

Right now, we're having standardized testing in school. Which means oodles of free time after finishing the test, so hopefully, I'll be able to churn out a few more. And I also need to get back to work on my 30 Kisses fic…


	2. Steps

Disclaimer: PoT not mine.

Rating: PG-13.

Setting: after college; Tezuka & Fuji in their mid to late twenties.

Summary: It was a procedure Tezuka had perfected after years of Fuji entwinement.

Word Count: 866

**Steps.**

Sunlight streamed into the room as the alarm rang noisily beside the bed.

From under the covers, a hand flew out and slammed deftly down onto the 'snooze' button.

Silence ensued.

Five minutes later, the insistent beeping began again.

This time, the comforter stirred as Tezuka awoke. Groggily, he reached over Fuji's body, which was currently entwined with his, to switch off the alarm. He squinted at the bright rays in his eyes and slowly began the tedious process of extracting himself from Fuji's close embrace. It was a long methodical procedure that he had perfected during their years together as college roommates.

Well, almost perfected.

There would be a few snags once in a while, but today, he couldn't afford any mistakes. He had a lunch meeting and the last thing he needed was for Fuji to wake up and decide to accompany him there. Fuji always insisted on going with Tezuka whenever he met with a new client – he said it was to make sure Tezuka didn't get himself into any shady business.

Tezuka knew better – Fuji just wanted to mark his territory.

Not that he minded, for it meant he wouldn't have to worry about any businessmen asking him out or subtly brushing his thigh during meetings.

But the way Fuji acted in public sometimes…

It could get inappropriate.

And Tezuka had no intention of scarring yet another one of his patrons.

Now… back to the matter on hand.

Step One – untangle the legs.

The first step was always the hardest, thought Tezuka. Fuji was a cuddler, and that meant every morning, Fuji's long lean legs would either be wrapped around his hips or intertwined with his legs. Very tightly. And always pressed hard against a _certain_ appendage between his thighs.

But Tezuka wasn't the former captain and coach of Seigaku and now the head of his law firm for nothing. Over time, Tezuka had learned that by running his index finger gently down Fuji's hip, the tensai would loosen his grasp on Tezuka's lower body. Of course, that meant he would also latch on more tightly to Tezuka's arms and upper body, but that was what Step Three was for.

Step Two – turn head away.

It sounded simple enough, but Tezuka had had to learn the hard way how devastating not performing this step correctly could be. Fuji liked burrowing his face into Tezuka's neck or chest, and if shifted incorrectly, it just made him burrow even deeper. And occasionally, for some strange reason, it made him start to lick and nip there. Which, of course, made Tezuka wake him up for another round of the previous night's activities, and their whole morning schedule would be thrown off.

Today was one of Tezuka's luckier days.

The side of Fuji's head was pressed lightly on top of Tezuka's bare chest, and it was fairly easy for him, using his right hand, to exchange his body for the striped blue and white pillow. The feel of his hard chiseled muscles could definitely not be replaced with the soft fluffiness of the pillow without being noticed, and it was something that Tezuka had worried about before, but he knew now that as long as it was his pillow, and consequently contained his scent, Fuji would stay fast asleep.

Hopefully.

Step Three – free the arm.

During their freshman year in college, Tezuka had the pleasure of experiencing Fuji's Death Grip every single morning. And years later, it still hadn't loosened.

The right hand of the tensai would be curled tightly around his tricep, and the left hand would lay lightly on his bicep.

And Tezuka still had not figured out the best way to execute Step Three. Prying off Fuji's fingers took too long, and often, Fuji would be awake by then. Most days, Tezuka just tried to yank his left arm out from Fuji's grasp, though, as Inui would say, there was a 40 chance of failure.

Tezuka frowned at Fuji, who appeared to be still asleep. Then readying himself, he took a deep breath and yanked.

Success!

Luck was most definitely on his side.

Then, he became acutely aware of The Death Grip on his right hand, which, for sure, was _not_ there before.

Shit.

And he still had seven more steps, including placing photo albums in strategic areas on the bed, so that Fuji wouldn't notice the sudden lightness from the loss of Tezuka's weight, and draping towels over lamps and chairs to limit the amount of sunlight in certain spots, so that Fuji wouldn't get a blast of sunshine heat right in his face.

"Waking up without telling me?"

Tezuka made no reply, but inwardly cursed whoever out there was in charge of life.

Fuji's smiling eyes opened.

"Ah, I remember. You're meeting Suzuki-san for lunch."

Tezuka heard the unspoken, _And I'm coming with you._ Loud and clear.

Sighing, Tezuka wrapped the sheet around his waist and stood.

"I'm taking a shower."

Lightly scratching his head, he headed into the bathroom.

Grinning widely, Fuji hopped off the bed, sunlight bathing his naked body in golden light, followed Tezuka in, and closed the door.

They still had four hours before noon, anyways.

---owari---

AN: So, how was it? I'd really appreciate some feedback, just so I can tell if you guys like it.

I finished this in sort of a rush… So pardon any spelling errors. Maybe I should get a beta reader. Hmm. If you see any obvious spelling/grammar mistakes, let me know.


	3. Laps

Disclaimer: PoT not mine.

Rating: PG-13

Setting: Seigaku days

Summary: Tezuka was convinced that it was a foolproof plan to display his affections.

Word Count: 354

**Laps.**

Tezuka was patient.

He had to be.

As a tennis captain, he would have to suffer through groups of giggling girls trailing behind him and endure the problems and disruptions that his over-energetic team caused.

Though that didn't mean he left them unpunished – the tennis club, of course. Not his fangirls, although on some days, Tezuka wished he could just bash his tennis racquet against their skulls and put them out of their misery. But he could never allow himself to do so.

Tezuka firmly believed that running endless laps around the tennis courts solved most of life's problems. It made Kaidoh and Momoshiro stop arguing, or at least, after their 37th lap, both were too out-of-breath to continue their vicious banter. Inui now kept his eyes above Kaidoh's waistline in the showers, after Tezuka pulled him aside at the end of practice one day and graciously bestowed him with fifty laps for inappropriate staring. Running laps even made Echizen stop drinking Ponta. The only snag was that once the laps were completed, he would immediately reach for another can of sugary diabetes-inducing sweetness.

So it was natural for Tezuka to assume that distributing laps would be the best way to win Fuji over.

It made Tezuka uncomfortable to know that his feelings towards the tensai were far from platonic. If they were, then Tezuka wouldn't be waking up in a sticky mess in the mornings, nor would he suddenly turn hard at the sight of Fuji's ass as the owner bent over to retrieve a tennis ball.

Tezuka was young, and despite the fact that most considered him to be far older than he looked, he still was quite uneducated in the ways of sexual matters. All he knew was that this attraction was interfering with tennis, and he had to get rid of it.

And the only way to do so would be for him to come clean with Fuji and tell him.

But five weeks later, Tezuka was slowly losing patience.

He didn't understand why Fuji hadn't realized that the twenty extra laps everyday was his blatant sign of affection.

---owari---


	4. Tezuka and Fuji's Relationship

Disclaimer: same as always.

Rating: PG-13.

Setting: Seigaku days.

Summary: Echizen always sensed something strange between those two.

Word Count: 491

**Tezuka and Fuji's relationship, as seen by Echizen.**

Echizen knew something was going on between Buchou and Fuji-senpai long before anyone else caught on.

Of course, he didn't know exactly what their relationship was, but he found their behavior together extremely fishy.

Like the time he and Momo-senpai went out for hamburgers and found Buchou tucked away in a corner of the restaurant with Fuji-senpai. Momo-senpai hadn't noticed them, but he certainly did, and it just didn't seem right.

Buchou _never_ ate burgers.

Kikumaru-senpai had invited Buchou countless times to join them for a bite after practice, probably to get out of paying the bill, but each time, they would be delayed for ten minutes by Tezuka-buchou's brief but stern admonishment, followed by Inui's lectures on health and nutrition.

But here Buchou was, chewing on a double cheeseburger while Fuji-senpai sipped smilingly on what looked like a green tea milkshake. Echizen didn't think they sold wasabi milkshakes here.

From their table in the back, Buchou and Fuji-senpai could easily see everyone, yet they failed to spot Momo-senpai and him. Which was odd, considering that Buchou had excellent observation skills. He was probably too immersed in Fuji-senpai's meaningless chatter.

That greatly unsettled Echizen. Buchou wasn't supposed to be playing favorites, even outside of the tennis courts. It wasn't fair. Hadn't Buchou chosen _him_ to be Seigaku's next pillar of support?

After that day, Echizen began paying more attention to the two. It was amazing what one could discover by mere watching.

Fuji-senpai always stood next to Buchou while overseeing matches, their shirt sleeves touching and hands just centimeters apart.

And Buchou always sat to the right of Fuji-senpai during lunch. Occasionally, Buchou would take a bite out of Fuji-senpai's bento, when he thought no one else was looking. He probably didn't want anyone to think that he shared the same exotic tastes as the tensai.

Fuji-senpai also liked waiting for Buchou after practice and handing him his towel as he stepped out of the showers. Echizen wanted to be the one to do that; then maybe, Tezuka-buchou would help him practice his serves and smashes.

And in the middle of afternoon practice, Buchou often called Fuji-senpai in to discuss the others' progress. Or at least, that's what Echizen thought they were talking about. There really couldn't be anything else to talk about that would take over forty minutes at a time.

Echizen figured that Fuji-senpai had gotten too lonely without Yuuta, and Buchou was serving as a substitute. And Tezuka-buchou? Well, Echizen's jealousy wouldn't let him admit that maybe Buchou preferred Fuji-senpai over all the other players, even him.

It wasn't until one day, when Echizen walked into the locker rooms to get his grip tape and found a shirtless Fuji-senpai pressed against the wall with his legs wrapped around their captain's waist, and Buchou desperately grinding his hips against Fuji-senpai's while practically sucking the tensai's face off, that he finally realized the true nature of Buchou and Fuji-senpai's relationship.

---owari---


	5. Of Beds and Plans

Disclaimer: same same.

Rating: soft R.

Setting: Seigaku days

Summary: Consider it a ward-off-Mizuki charm.

Word Count: 529

**Of Beds and Plans.**

"Fuji, why are we in Yuuta's room?"

"Yuuta-kun won't mind," replied Fuji with a sly glint in his eyes. He smiled innocently at Tezuka over his shoulder.

Tezuka wasn't fooled; Fuji was definitely up to something.

Of the many expressions of Fuji Tezuka had witnessed over the years, he had only been able to decipher less than half a dozen of them. Surprisingly, Fuji was as much of an enigma now as he was almost a decade ago, when they first met in elementary school.

But the look Fuji wore right now…

That was one he recognized.

It was the same one that crept over the tensai's face right before he swooped onto Tezuka's length and proceeded to erase any ounce of common sense or train of thought Tezuka possessed. And then, while Tezuka was too busy gasping for breath, Fuji would retract his mouth and murmur a plea to cancel morning practice next week or to visit a remote beach for the weekend.

Whenever Atobe came over to talk in private with Tezuka, Fuji would wear that expression all day, and inevitably, Atobe would leave an hour earlier than planned due to unfortunate but always unexplainable mishaps in the clubroom.

Fuji was plotting. And Tezuka suspected it had something to do with the fact that Mizuki would be arriving in a few hours to stay the night with Yuuta. Just a day ago, when Fuji had asked permission to sleep over at the Tezuka residence, Yuuta had jumped at the chance to invite Mizuki for a dinner without the usual disruptions from his aniki. In a matter of minutes, the dinner request had turned into a sleepover, and Tezuka knew Fuji was less than pleased with the way things had turned out.

Tugging at Tezuka's hand, Fuji pulled him over to Yuuta's bed.

"I refuse to take part in your schem—"

Without warning, Fuji pushed him over and crawled on top of him. Tezuka opened his mouth to protest, but Fuji easily silenced him by grinding their hips together. Leaning down, he gently brushed his lips against Tezuka's.

"My schemes?" Fuji whispered quietly. "What if I told you they involved… this?" He slid a slender hand into Tezuka's pants.

Letting out a quiet moan, Tezuka snaked an arm around Fuji and pulled him closer.

Fuji smiled in triumph as his pants were tugged off, but frowned as he was rolled onto his back. "Wait, move more to the right."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow.

Eyes crinkling back into their half-moons, Fuji ran a finger down Tezuka's hip. "This bed is big enough for two people. So…"

Tezuka didn't like how Fuji's voice remained so steady and calm; he must be doing something wrong.

Calloused fingers probed at Fuji's entrance, and Tezuka was pleased to see Fuji gasp and bury his face into Tezuka's neck.

"You don't want Mizuki to sleep next to Yuuta."

Fuji nibbled on Tezuka's earlobe. "Exactly."

Tezuka, panting and gasping, busied himself with removing Fuji's shirt while he waited for Fuji to continue.

"Yuuta-kun… only sleeps on the left." He caught Tezuka's hand and held it still. "So I thought we'd christen the right."

---owari---


End file.
